


Aftermath

by TheDragonScribe15



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Character Deaths Implied, Chracter Deaths, F/M, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragonScribe15/pseuds/TheDragonScribe15
Summary: The war is over. The Great Dread Wolf has won. The veil torn down and the fade once again meeting the physical world. In the ruins what is left?





	Aftermath

"You did it. The great Dread Wolf has won."  
"I did what I had too."    
The veil was torn down. The fade flowed like a torrent into the world. Reshaping the land, filling every area, and drowing the inhabitants in its power. It was true he had won. Solas looked at the world he made. He had fixed his wrongs, he had undid the mistakes of the past.  
"What's the matter, my love?” She asked.  
Lavellans voice was sweet. A cool balm in a world burning down around him. Her slender hand placed on his shoulder. Her grip firm,

(The rallying cries of those that follow. Holding her staff in an iron grip as she leads them)

yet gentle.

( Lavellans staff slips from her hand as does the weight on her shoulders. Her hand extended to him)

Solas shook his head and placed his hand on top of hers. Removing it from his shoulder. A bitter smile on his lips as he looked towards his destination. Skyhold. Though not as he remembered it.  

(Dark circles drained the life from Lavellan's bright blue eyes, and her normally sun kissed skin was pale. Her ears and nose an irritated red. Those who followed were not in any better shape. Everyone was weary and some were on the verge of frostbite. Others were slowly dying from their wounds. The Inquisition had taken a blow, Haven was destroyed and many were wounded or dead. Yet they still had hope. They weren't all dead yet they just needed a new place to grow their organization.  
Solas knew of one. They looked towards the gray stone that broke up the endless white of snow. Solas gestured to the structure ahead. As if Lavellan could miss it. Skyhold stood strong and proud against the elements. As if it had been waiting for the Inquisition all this time.  A smile spread across Lavellans face and melted away the icy chill that had over took her. Her blue eyes filled with life.)

Solas looked towards the castle. Snow and ice clinged to its crumbling walls. Solas stopped at the bridge to its gate. It seemed as if the wrong gust of wind could bring this place to its knees.  
"Guess well need to fix the place up again." Solas heard her speak beside him. Her lips forced into a small grin.

(A genuine smile appeared on Lavellans lips. The first time since Haven.  
“Its starting to feel like home already")

Her eyes betraying her glistening with unshed tears. Skyhold was gone. Its walls and pride crumbled with the organization that lived in it. Now it just echoed the remains of the past.

(“Its empty now." Words thrown into the fade. Thinking they fell onto deaf ears. "Its all a lie. You took that too." Solas listened to the echo’s from a distance.)

He didn't respond. Only nodded his head as he made it past the gate. The snow and bits of dead grass that remained crunched under his boots. It was strange seeing it so empty. The large open area, where tents had stood in rows for medics.

(They wanted it to be a sparring area. She disagreed. “We should help those we can.” It was what her keeper always taught her.)

All was gone leaving no trace behind of there existence. The poles near the steps that held the banners she liked, Dalish to feel more like home, now bare. The fade reacted to that feeling. Laying heavy on Skyhold as if to preserve what it could as little as it was. Besides the spirits trying to fill the space of those left behind there wasn't anything left of the Inquisition.  
One spirit continually crossed the void that once was a bridge to the commanders office. Its hands resting against the hilt of its blade and armor fluffing near the top like a lions main.

(The door to his study rushes open. Lavellan enters face contorted "Did Cullen come through here? I need to speak with him." She's worried. Always looking out for others never herself.)

"Seems fitting for that kind of spirit to mimic him." Her gaze is far off as she watches it cross into the office. Another spirit resembling a soldier, probably Jim, following after with a report in hand. "Valor."

(“Go" his voice is like a roar that barely breaks through the choas. "I will give you all the time I can." It's not enough.)

"Yes." Solas finally finds some words to speak. "He deserved as much."  
His eyes falling on the spirit of integrity that stood admits a pile of charred wood and hay. In front of the spirit was a piece of wood that was slowly being chipped away. Though no hands touched it. The block forming into the shape of a birds head.

(“He won't tell me what he's making." She huffs and deepens her voice in a crude mimic of the Warden voice. "You'll see when its finished" Solas grins at the attempt.  
His mind freed from his own troubles and Lavellan smiles in return. She always knew when his mind was troubled and how to bring a smile back to his face.)

The spirit wipes some wood chips from his beard. It turns his head for a moment giving a gruff nod before returning to its work.

(His shield raises and catches the arrow. "I'll stay and help Cullen." The griffon on his chest shines as he takes his last stand. He didn't run this time.)

She grabs Solas' arm gently. Pulling him away from his memories and towards the stone steps. Though by now they aren't really stone. Vines had grown up the sides of the walls choking the stone. Gripping it as it crumbled. Burrowing into the cracks. He felt her grip loosen when the tavern came into view.  
The roof had caved in completely and through the door frame all you could see were the fallen beams that had been holding up the second floor. Her knees trembled as she walked towards the building.

(Comfort and friends. A chance to relax. Laughter pouring out of every crevice. "Just one round of Wicked Grace." Lavellan pleads him with a smile. Solas shakes his head. "To afraid you'll lose?" Her eyebrows dance trying to entice him. "One round." He concedes. Its the only time he does so. He wishes he had done it once more.)

She places a single hand on the wall and hung her head. Solas stayed back as three spirits emerged from the ruins.  
One going by the wall near her and whispering something Solas couldn't hear. It's hair choppy and clothes mostly patches of mismatch patterns.

(Solas shook his head as Lavellan told him of Sera's pranks. Why did she agree to something so immature.  
"Its her way of showing she cares." Lavellan tells him.)

The spirit of kindness puts its arm around her in comfort. Then it threw its head back and laughed with a snort. The other two spirits soon joined the bunch.  
The one standing at least three heads above the rest. With horns as wide as his shoulders. On its back a broadsword, a little damaged but still battle ready.

(A hearty laugh shook the whole building as they regal the story of the dragon they baited to them. “You're the best, boss."  Lavellan later tells Solas that she's glad the Iron Bull doesn't call her Herald or Inquisitor. Still wishes people would just call her Neria but it’s better than nothing.)

The other held its head high. Covered by an ornate headdress. Shoulders back as it looked around at the world.

(Hard exterior that could not be punctured. Eyes cold as ice. Her gaze softens ever so slightly as she lends her advice. "Vivienne may not be the...nicest." Lavellan pinches her nose. "But she is helping. In her own way.")

The two spirits, fortitude and command, watched for a moment before command ushered kindness back inside the ruins.

(“My dear I think you'll need to go on ahead." Vivienne’s voice is even, her hands crackling with unshed magic. Lavellan shook her head before speaking. Vivienne couldn't withstand alone.  
"Ugh fine. Make me feel all bad and stuff. Bossy lady won't be alone." Sera notched an arrow as she responded. "Just let the baldy know that the weirdy mage stuff is weird and stick 'im with an arrow if he says what."  
Lavellan once again disagreed when a large hand covered her shoulder.  
"You and the others go on ahead boss." He cracked his neck and reached for his sword on his back. "We've got this."  
The last thing she heard was the Bulls roars, Sera's insults and Viviennes ice crackling. They last thing they saw was each other fall.)

Solas turned from the destroyed ruin and sighed. Her hands returned to his arms as a small form of comfort.  
"I know its hard, but we can rebuild it. Before you know it there will be singing and laughter coming from it once again." She sounded wistful and distant. Her voice laced with the fade.

(Lavellan sat beside Solas. Fingers intertwined under the table. Fitted perfectly to each other. The tunes of their adventures dancing through the air. She laughs at Sera rolling her eyes to the new song.  
"It's not that bad."  
"Wait till they sing about you and your Inquisiziness." Sara replies. "Creepy song is creepy.")

Solas doesn't say anything doesn't move. For a seoncd she begins to worry he isn't breathing. His face pale and eyes red. She tugs at his arm again to get him moving. Muttering that he needs to get out of the cold and lay down. So she gently guides him once agin. This time up the stairs into the castle. Though it isn't any warmer since it was now open and exposed to the elements. Snow drifted through the large spaces where stone had crumbled. A few wooden beams remained holding the ceiling. They rest layed on the ground.  
She walked up to a table on her right, brushing the snow away so she could grip the wood. The corner breaking off into her hand when she tries to lift it.  
"It's not any good anymore." She mumbled staring at the splinters in her hand. She looks at another pile of crumbled stone. She crouched slowly, breath soft as if the wrong just of wind just would topple the rest of the old fireplace down.

(Solas can hear Lavellans chatter while he paints. He stops to watch as she continues her conversation. He can see the reflection of the flames in her eyes and dancing off her hair. The warmth turning her cheeks slightly red. Or maybe it was something said in the conversation, knowing Varric. Lavellan turns noticing his staring. Solas cheeks turn slightly red as he resumed his work.)

Solas doesn't respond. His focus on the doorway besides it. The room was empty, the walls covered in old scraps of fabric. Solas walked over and pulled the fabric over. Paint chips crumbling to his feet. The more he pulled back the more damage he saw. Cracks deep in the mostly bare stone. All his work was ruined.  
Soon she followed behind him. Grabbing another tarp.  
"Leave it." He says but she doesn't listen instead yanking the tarps off the wall. Dust filling the air.

(She walks in now after every mission to see the progress. He can see it in Lavellans eyes. She is weighing the decisions she's made, each one laying another weight on her shoulders. Yet she stop her worrying for a moment.  
“They are beautiful.“ She stays and watches him paint. Her worries fade for a little while.)

The portrait she unveiled was the last one. The one Solas had left unfinished. She turned and smiled at him.  
"You can finish your mural now. They were always so beautiful." Her hand runs across the stone to brush away the dust, with no effect.

(She doesn't move. Sitting in a chair behind a desk covered in scrolls. Her eyes glossed over as she stares at the murals over and over. What should she have done different? What did she do wrong that he couldn't stay?  
“You did nothing. Cracked and broken, everything is in pieces and he is trying to put them in place.” Cole stands by her side trying to help only to realize his words had no effect. So he goes up the stairs, coming back with the dashing tevinter  man close behind. Using his charm and wit to pull her back from the pain and hole in her heart. Cole smiles knowing he helped.  
The walls are covered the next day. Dorian feigned ignorance as to why. Cole explains simply, “They once made you heavy but you were still happy to see them but now. Now they hurt you.”)

The steps don’t echo but the two figures still make their way down the step. One striding into the room. It’s hair and facial hair in perfect order and a cheeky grin on its face. It rested a hand on her shoulder as it gestures to the tarps on the walls and dust on the ground.

(“You read Tevinve?” Dorians voice echoed down to Solas. He looked up to see Dorian talking to Lavellan.  
“Not so much read, as understand a few words here and there.” She smiles as she put the book down. “An attempt to try and piece together some of the elves history.”  
Lavellan never seemed to hold any contempt towards Tevinter or humans in general for what was taken. She just wanted to know what had been lost. She smiles at the chance to talk about what she knows. As little as it may be.)

“I believe this spirit of purpose agrees with me Solas.” She smiles and nods to the spirit. Who follows through and begins removing the tarps from the walls.  
Solas keeps his head down as he listens to the clattering chips of paint. Hitting the floor like drops of rain, or hail. Hail was more fitting. It was heavy and hurt when it landed. Solas could help but think he deserved every drop.  
The other spirit come out of hiding around that time. But it did not so much walk in, as appears suddenly beside Solas. Placing its hand on his shoulders and whispering in mysteries and riddles. The spirits hat brim covering its face. Solas can’t look away from him, the spirit that somehow began mimicking another spirit.  
“It’s not him, is it?” She speaks “But It’s not possible for a spirit of peace to mimic a spirit of compassion. Can it?”

(He watches from a distance as she sits on the walls edge, Cole sitting by her side. She looked at peace, just sitting there with the spirit, or maybe something different now.  
“You are denying Cole his true purpose.” He warned her.  
“Or I could be helping him to grow. Maybe even a spirit can change its purpose.” She responded with more wisdom then he’s seen since before he awoke. It seemed naive, and foolish at them time. Looking now, maybe it was possible.)

Solas felt at a lost. The Inquisitor had done something never done before with Cole.  She let him try to be human. Was this a sign that it had succeeded? Had his impact been so great with the Inquisition that a spirit needed to play his part? One thing he knew for certain.  
“No, it’s not the Cole we know. Nor anything like him.”

(“Scratching, weeping. The end justify the means. He’s nearby, but I can’t reach him.” Cole calls out to the small group left in front of him.  
“Were almost there.” Lavellan yells back. The pain in her voice evident. To much was left behind. Cole could feel it inside her. He wishes he could help heal it, but more pain was yet to come.  
“Ah well it appears they think they can block our way.” Dorian laughs at the attempt. “Making a way through should be simple enough.”  
Havoc ensued on the enemy, sure enough a small gap was left. Just enough for a small group to get through.  
“We all need to retreat now.” Lavellan ordered but time was short.  
“There isn’t time. Fallen broken...” The others gave them as much time as they could but it wasn’t enough.  
“Then we’ll make time.” Lavellan cuts off the spirit. Staying and fighting with them. She won’t make this decision again, so Cole makes it for her.  
“Tell Maridon that I...” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he disappears and reappears behind the soldiers. Creating a minor diversion.  
“That won’t be enough to draw their attention long.” Dorian raises his hands, rising the enemies fallen soldiers. “This should do it. Now hurry.”  
He never loses his cheeky demeanor. His face telling Lavellan this should be easy. His eyes showing his true thoughts. He’ll be joining those fallen soldiers shortly.  
Cole can feel the pain left in Lavellan and her comrades as they push forward again. A pain he won’t be there to heal.)

“There is only one Cole isn’t there.” The coldness in her tone bites but Solas doesn’t responded. He has earned as much as a few bitting words but this. He doesn’t know how much more he can take.  
“Please, can we leave now?” The Dread Wolfs voice doesn’t sound like his in that moment. It was the voice of a man broken and tired.  
“Of course.” She is quick to his side, her arm wrapped around his. “You can finish your work later.”  
She waved to the two spirits left in the room as she made her way to the broken throne. Solas beside her the entire time.  
They pass a room on the way. Door open, with two spirits inside.  
A spirit of tact sat at a desk. Candle lit beside it and a quill in hand. Hair up in an intricate braid at keep to out of the way while it writes.

(Solas finds Lavellan sitting on the couch in her room, Josephine on the other end. Talking about the different cultures and etiquette that stems from them. He goes to leave but Josephine excused herself before he can. Giving a knowing smile before she heads down the steps.  
“I don’t know how she keeps it all straight.” Solas takes Josephines spot on the couch and grabs Lavellans hand. “Constantly balancing the social affairs of the Inquisition. I don’t know another soul that can do what she does.” Solas runs his thumb over her knuckles as he mutters an agreement. “It’s nice to see her relax for a few minutes at least.”

He remembers the moment he sent the order. The Inquisition even though it had “disbanded” was getting to close. Regaining connections and moving secretly underground. Gaining to much power back. He agonized for hours before the Dread Wolf ordered his men and struck for the heart.)

The other spirit, one of purpose, stood behind her. Hood covering her hair. Hand in a loose fist, the knuckles of her pointer finger held near her lip. The spirit had an air of mystery and seemed deep in thought.

(“Leliana’s life was so different from mine. Sometimes it seems like we’re not even speaking the same language.” Lavellan says randomly one day while staring up at the “crows nest.” “She tries to seem so cold, yet she does care. You can see it when she talks about her ideals. While radical at times they can be very inspiring. Gets you thinking of what the world could be.”  
Solas wishes he could see that wistful look in Lavellans eyes more often. Maybe one day he could show her what they world could be. He shakes the thought from his mind before it can take hold.

They knew they were close. It had gotten quiet. Too quiet Leliana noted. It only took a second. One wrong step and a shove away from the trap.  
Lavellan told her she would be fine. Leliana had to give it to Solas, it was the type of poison she would use. Leliana agreed she would be more than fine as she would go the Makers bossom.)

The memories cut off as soon as they pasted the door. Solas kept his eyes on the ground, his mind feeling like it was drowning in the past.  
“You’ll be fine.” She cooed. “Almost there, then you can lie down. Get your strength back and you’ll be better.” Solas wished that was true more than anything.  
They had almost reached the door where two other spirits stood.  
One taller, it’s hair short. Eyes piercing yet something softer laid behind them. The vague image of a tall headdress faded in and out above it. An eye on its armor, the sun on its head, and a shield on its back. A spirit of faith.

(“Cassandra has this light to her.” Lavellan talked to Solas after hearing that they would possibly be choosing the right or left hand of the divine as the new divine. “She is very strong and driven.” She began listing why she thought she would make a great divine. While Solas didn’t care much for Orlais politics, he loved to listen to Lavellan talk.)

The other spirit was much shorter, stocky really. Nose a little crooked. Crossbow in hand and chest hair peaking out of its coat. A spirit of loyalty.

(Varric had invited Lavellan to play Wicked Grace.  Lavellan loved the chance to feel normal again, instead of this divine lofty figure. Solas was happy to see her relax. )

The two spirits walked up to them. The spirit of faith bowing its head slightly, while the spirit of loyalty just winked at them. The spirit of faith rolled its eyes in disgust at whatever the spirit of loyalty had meant. Then they both moved along, apparently bickering as they went.  
“They really embodied them all well. Didn’t they? Almost as if they are still here.” She sighed at the thought. Solas didn’t responded.

(Cassandra knew they had no choice, the eluvian was about to close. With Solas inside it.  
“Inquisitor you must go through!” If Lavellan fade stepped she could make it in time.  
“I’m not doing this again. We’ve lost to many.” Lavellan couldn’t bear to think it. They had been with her from the start.  
“And if you don’t go through we’re gonna lose a whole lot more.” Varric replies. “Don’t worry about me and the seeker. Go stop chuckles before it’s to late.”  
They had been with her from the start. She only wished she could have been with them in the end.)

Solas felt her tug at his arm again. He took one last look at the ruins below of Skyhold before he began to ascend the stairs. Going up into the Inquisitor, Neria Lavellans room.  
He couldn’t believe that the stairs were still sound enough to walk on. Maybe the fade had worked some of its magic into the wood? He wasn’t sure anymore, or maybe he just didn’t care enough to think about the why. He just wanted to lay down.  
The room was exactly how he remembered it. A simple bed.  
“I’ve slept on the ground before. I don’t need anything fancy.”  
A couch set in front of the an unlit fireplace.  
They would sit and talk for hours if they had the time. Sometimes she was to tired to talk. In those moments Lavellan laid her on his chest as they watched the flames dance. It’s where she cried after he left.  
The only difference really was the condition the items were left in. A bit more worn and dusty. Fabric ripped and wood crumbling.  
She walked over to the fireplace and with a wave of her hand it was lit. Solas began wandering around looking at every detail. The balcony where he kissed her, the couch they both shared, the bed where she searched for him in the fade after he left.  
Her hands found his arms again but this time he pushed her away. She tried again trying to pull him back.  
“Love what’s the matter? What’s wrong? Solas talk to me?” She reached out for his face to try and make him look at her.  
“No.” He kept pulling away, instead focusing on the papers left behind. Letters to her clan.

(“I had two friends in the clan really. Them and the keeper.” She would tell him of how she would wander the forest with her two friends. They were a group of outcasts in the clan. How nothing could separate them. How those two friends came with her to the conclave to protect her. How much she missed them and blames herself for what happened.)

“It’s alright my love, We have now.” She tried to pull him back. He shook his head  
looking at the clothes she left behind.

(She came down the steps. For the first time wearing something other than armor. She was clad in a blue tunic and tan pants. Solas heart leapt from his chest.  
“Are you alright?” Solas ears turned a bit red as a he cleared his throat and turned away. Muttering he was fine.)

She was finally able to get a hold of his chin and make him look at her. Solas eyes began to burn.  
Her, no its, Solas reminded himself. Its eyes because it was not her. It had the same markings on its face. Branches weaving across her forehead. Marking her as Mythals.

(He took her to a place where the veil was thin. Here he could tell her the truth, come clean about everything. Or so he thought. When it came down to it he stopped himself and told her a different truth instead. Those marking on her face said she was a slave.  
She saw it differently.  She sees everything differently, that’s why Solas loves her. So she doesn’t remove them, he still sees her beauty. He loves her and he tells her so. That’s why he had to do what he does next and let’s her go.)

No it doesn’t mark her as Mythals anymore. Solas reminds himself. But it doesn’t matter. It’s blue eyes that weren’t bright enough, it’s skin looking like a ghost. It’s voice an irritation and grip harsh.  
“What’s wrong my love?” The spirit of hope that had once mimicked his love had changed. Becoming Solas’ own despair. Mocking him.  
“Please, leave me.” His voice barely a whisper.

(“Solas.” Lavellans voice is barely above a whisper. She couldn’t move as he had trapped her in place. “Please don’t do this.” She begged tears flowing down her cheeks.  
“I must.” Was his only response as he prepared for the process of tearing down the veil.)

“Ma vhenan.” The spirit, no demon cooed.  
“Do not call me that.” His voice trembled now with a bit of rage as the tears finally began to fall.  
“Ma vhenan, why what’s...” The demon was cut off as Solas lashed out.

(It was done. The veil was being torn. It was a slow process at first but once it was finished their was no going back. The world slowly feeling the effects and began descended into chaos. He could hear Lavellan screaming. Tears streamed down her face. It couldn’t all be for naught. All the sacrifices, all the pain.  
“You can still stop this! Solas please!”  
Solas couldn’t look at her, couldn’t see his heart break. She would never forgive him. He knew that from the start, but he knew he couldn’t handle seeing it with his own two eyes. Then the ground began to crack below them.)

“I SAID LEAVE ME!” The Dread Wolf roared. The demon backed up as he moved closer until they both stood on the balcony.  
“Solas.”  
“You are not her. You have no right to be her!”  
“Ma vhenan.” He lunged pushing the demon back.

(Solas turned quickly as he watched the panic form in Lavellans eyes. Her feet still stuck to the ground as it began to split underneath her.  
Solas released his magic without a second thought and Lavellan began to sprint. Heading straight for Solas. He backed away from the cracking earth, urging Lavellan to hurry. The ground finally gave way and Lavellan jumped. She  wasn’t going to make it. They both knew she wouldn’t make it. Solas reached out to her trying to grab her. She reached back. He could see it in her eyes what this meant. One last chance to change his mind. One last chance to stop the madness. He could reach her, he realized. She was so close.  
The last thing Lavellan heard was Solas’ cries as she plummeted into the abyss.)

Solas reached out before the demon could plummet. Grabbing its arm and pulling it into his embrace. Like he should have done with Lavellan. His vhenan, his heart. The demon hugged him back. Practically purring into his ear.  
“Var lath vir suledin.”  
“I wish it had ma vhenan.” Solas fell to his knees. The weight of everything he had done finally crashing down around him. His chest heaving with deep sobs.

The great Dread Wolf has won, but Solas lost everything.


End file.
